Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“You’re teasing me,” he said petulantly. “After I just agreed to be your pretend fiancé, now you’re teasing me.”
So he did agree. The confirmation sent my heart into the stratosphere. “I think it’s cute.”
“Mpfh,” he muttered.
“And I might have been staring at your ass,” I said as I exited the room to toss the dirty stuff in the washing machine. “It’s an award-winning ass.”
When I got back to the bedroom, I noticed deep pink stains on his cheeks and ears. “No flirting,” he said. “That’s a rule.”
I reached over him to the shelf above the dresser to get another fitted sheet. When my mouth was right by his ear, I said in a low voice, “I reject that rule.”
Parrish’s entire body shuddered, and he made a little whimper sound deep in his throat. “You,” he said with a squeak before trying again. “You can’t reject the rule. It’s a rule. Rules are… rules.”
I moved over to put the sheet in the crib. “If I can’t flirt with my own fiancé, how am I going to convince anyone I’m in love with you?”
Parrish whipped around and flashed me wide eyes. I noticed he kept a hand on Marigold to keep her from squirming off the changing pad. “In love with me? What?” It took his brain a minute to catch up. “Oh. Oh, you mean pretend love. Fake love. Right. Well… you’ll just have to… um…”
“Flirt?” I suggested.
“Oh dear God on a golf ball,” he said faintly, turning back to finish dressing Marigold in fresh clothes. “I didn’t exactly think this through, did I, baby girl?”
I stepped up behind him, feeling more in control of the situation since they’d put Marigold into my arms ten days ago. With Parrish’s help, I might just be able to do this.
Instead of leaning in and inhaling the back of his neck like I really wanted to, I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I don’t know why you agreed to help me, Parrish, but thank you. From the bottom of my heart.”
“No need to thank me,” he said quickly, as if trying to shove off the emotion that sparked in the room around us. “I’m only doing this because you obviously need a lot, and I mean a lot, of help. And, um, also, it’s super temporary. Like super temporary. I’ll stay to help because you have a lot to learn.”
“Duly noted,” I said with a laugh. “A lot.”
I moved back out to the main room to fix a bottle for Marigold, but I still heard his whispered words to my niece.
“What the heck have I just gotten myself into? I’m an idiot who can’t say no to a big, beautiful teddy bear, isn’t that right, sweet girl? Parrish is an idiot, and Parrish doesn’t know how to guard his freaking heart, does he? No he doesn’t.”
I stopped and let the words sink in. I wanted desperately to know which one of us he thought he might lose his heart to in all of this—me or Marigold. And what happened if he’d gotten it all wrong and it ended up being me who lost everything?
5
Parrish
Later that week, it became pretty clear that what I had gotten myself into was what my aunt Marnie would call a hell of a pickle, and guarding my heart was going to be even trickier than I’d thought. I’d known from our first meeting that I found Diesel Church attractive. What I hadn’t realized was that I’d also find him comforting and fascinating and more addictive than Miss Sara’s frosting.
But life was all about discovery, right? As it happened, just that week I’d discovered that the sight of a big man sprinkling organic feed for his chickens—all of whom were named, mind you, and all of whom had distinct personalities—was a huge turn-on, and suddenly, “Brenda, girl, you need to get your beak in there and don’t be shy” and “Lloyd, do not attempt to establish a pecking order with me. I am the pecking order” had become phrases that triggered my arousal.
Similarly, I’d discovered that the only thing more heartwarming than a tattooed badass cuddling a tiny baby was when said badass put on a pair of reading glasses so he could double-check the instructions on her new formula and then continued to wear them while he discussed your day at the restaurant, his day at the junkyard, the intricacies of baby digestion, and how to get his sweet girl to sleep through the night.
Additionally, I’d discovered that standing next to that big, tattooed, chicken-loving, far-sighted, not-flirtatious man while he gave a vegetable-puree-covered infant a bath in the kitchen sink was more dangerous to my well-being than a game of Russian roulette, which was why I was right now on my hands and knees, scrubbing Diesel’s kitchen floor, while he handled tubby time alone.